Sweet Dreams
by Faith-chan
Summary: EDIT: Random Zenekacentric drabbles that poked me with a stick till I wrote them down. No slash, no ship as of now. They just are what they are.
1. Sweet Dreams

AN: Ok, random drabble. Really, pointless fluff. Nothin to do with anythin. Like most of my work...

Sweet Dreams

Dr. Radek Zelenka was tired. He was used to that, though, There had been many, many times in his life when sleep had become a precious and elusive commodity. Quite a number of those times had been since his arrival on Atlantis. As the slight man flopped back onto his bed to get some much needed rest after being awake for three days straight, he realized something else.

He was lonely. He wasn't so used to that, anymore, though. Being alone was one thing, and that rarely bothered him in the slightest. Being lonely, though, was something else all together. He had friends here, as... odd... as some of those friendships may be. Most times, that was more than enough to sustain him. There was simply no time for loneliness.

Right now, though, what he really wanted was a warm body next to him. The rhythmic sound of breathing and the feel of a chest rising and falling. Someone to slip his arms around. Someone to hold onto him. Warm arms draped across his stomach. Breath on his neck. The pulse of another person beside him, with him. Soft hair to run his fingers through. Mostly, though, he wanted the knowledge that he was needed, wanted. Loved.

The scientist sighed, rolled onto his side, and curled up. He reached up and pulled his pillow down so that he was clutching it to his chest. He closed his eyes and hoped that by morning, the loneliness would leave him and the dull ache in his chest would subside. He closed his eyes, and in moments he had drifted to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_It was dark. He looked around, but saw nothing but more darkness. Idly, he started walking, but couldn't tell if he was actually getting anywhere, so he stopped. Something warm brushed against his left cheek, and his skin tingled. He turned to look for whatever it was, but saw nothing. He felt the same warmth skim the right side of his neck. He wasn't afraid. It was kind, even if it was elusive. _

_He felt the warmth again, winding its way down his neck, around his arm, back up and around his chest as if in a hug. He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. His head tipped back slightly, and a shiver shot up his spine. The warmth held him tighter and it spread down his torso and legs, all the way to his toes. He felt safe. Comforted. _

_A soft voice whispered in his ear. _

_"You are always loved." _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

End Notes: Please comment. Comments make me happy.


	2. Whisper on a Scream

AN: Ok, I had no intention of continuing the story, and it's not really. But I didn't feel like starting a new story; so now this story will be a repository for my Radek character studies and drabbles.

Dislaimer: I own nothing except my sour mood. Please note, minor spoilers for "Allies."

Whisper on a Scream

Radek was cold.

The spray was warm. Probably too warm, as he watched areas of his skin turn from pasty white to a distinct shade of dark pink. He didn't feel it, though. Couldn't feel much of anything. Nothing but the boulder that had taken up residence in his chest. It squeezed the air out of his lungs and threatened to cease the beating of his heart.

Part of him would have welcomed it.

Most of him was much more grounded. Shackled to reality by guilt and grief. The reasonable part of his mind yelled over and over that there was no way he could have known how events would play out. In fact, there was no way any of them could have known. It didn't matter.

He had no tears. He had not cried in a very long time. He had not felt like it in a very long time. Now, he simply did not know what to feel.

He thought idly of a lover he'd once had, on a world far away, who would continually write poetry. Radek had admired the words as they drifted across pages, allowing the emotions an outlet. He could remember bits and pieces, as he sat in the too-small shower, forehead resting on knees drawn up to his chest. Perhaps some of those scraps of paper might survive the onslaught of the world he had helped to doom.

He was useless at the moment. After the initial hours (how many hours...) of warning Earth, searching for a solution, desperately trying to solve a problem while battling with himself, keeping his guilt at bay, he'd been forced to stop. There was nothing more he could do to help the situation. He remembered the fear, sadness, panic warring behind Elizabeth's eyes as she'd told him to get some rest that night. Sleep on it. He had simply smiled without joy, telling her without words that he would be getting as much rest as she would.

He wanted to be back in the lab, or back in the command center. Anywhere that wasn't here, wasn't alone. If he could keep talking, keep thinking, keep moving, then maybe he could keep himself from feeling a bit longer. There was no use to it. What purpose did guilt serve, anyway? What stupid deity had dreamed this hell up?

Out there, he could think of helpful things; potential solutions. In here, all he could do was go over the useless 'what if's' that only hindsight could torment him with.

Before the water could leave him with burns that he would end up needing to explain to Carson, Radek leaned over to turn the water off. He sat, wet hair dripping, hypnotizing him.

Finally, he dragged himself from the floor and stood before the mirror, wiping the fog from it with his hand. He saw a bleary-eyed, scruffy old man staring back at him. As the glass fogged up again with residual steam, he turned away from it. He had no desire to try and look himself in the eye again until his friends were safely back on Atlantis, and Earth was safe.

End Notes: Title is lyrics from Kenny Wayne Shepherd's "Blue on Black."


End file.
